


Game Night at Beacon Academy: TABARZIN 20,000: ASTRAL DERELICT - Versus Mode

by Kiiratam



Series: Game Nights at Beacon Academy & Beyond [10]
Category: RWBY, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: By Way of Left 4 Dead, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Space Hulk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Blake and Yang are being hunted...Takes place between Volumes 2 & 3. (My BMBLB fic index)





	Game Night at Beacon Academy: TABARZIN 20,000: ASTRAL DERELICT - Versus Mode

**Author's Note:**

> [Recommended listening.](https://youtu.be/yolnSe2-0Lw)

"I don't like this." Blake edged forward down the metal corridor, weapon ready.

  
"Yeah, it's too quiet." Yang checked her ammo. Full, but that would go quick. It was only the two of them left, so Blake was on point and Yang was watching the rear. Their collective rear, not Blake's.

  
Yang knew an ambush was inevitable. They had almost made it to their extraction point, and the enemy knew that. She resisted the urge to check the map. She had to trust Blake to guide them right. And she could feel the enemy's eyes. They'd take any opportunity that presented itself.

  
"Yang, get ready. It's going to take me a minute to get this door open."

  
After blowing out a breath, Yang said, "When it's open, you just start running. Don't worry about me."

  
"But-"

  
"I'll be right behind you." Did that vent cover just move?

  
The enemy had realized they were vulnerable. Back the way they'd come, Yang could hear the clink of chitin on metal decking. Lots of it. She pulled her last frag grenade off her bandoleer, ready to arm it. As soon as they'd committed... She wouldn't get a chance once the rush really started. "Blake, incoming."

  
She didn't respond, intent on her work.

  
The vent cover popped off, bounced off the far wall. Yang swore, armed and threw her frag as far as she could down the hallway. Leveled her shotgun and started blasting away, counting shells in the back of her head.

  
Out of the vents came the trio of vorpalwights, wickedly taloned hands flashing under her suit lights. Every time, she forgot how fast they could close. Her first shot missed, too high. Her second caught the leader in the knees, but it didn't slow yet. Third in the pelvis. That staggered it, and she switched to the next one, as it pushed off the floor and skittered along the wall towards her, talons tearing gouges in the hardened steel. Body, head, dead. Down the corridor, her grenade went off. Yang smiled as she heard a shower of shattered chitin ricochet off the walls.

  
The two 'wights kept coming, side by side. Nearly on her. She resisted the urge to split the difference, and shoot right down the center. They might catch a few pellets, but it wouldn't slow them. Two shots to the torso of the uninjured one, and its advance was checked. Swing to the other, talons inches from her barrel. Yang held down the trigger, fighting the recoil, and landed two shells in its chest and the last in its head. It splattered her with ichor as it fell, crashing into her legs. Forcing her back a step, even in her T8K armor.

  
The last one had recovered, charging forward again. One shell in the pelvis, and it fell. Still clawing its way forward with its arms. The red light at the end of her barrel switched on. Last one. Yang took a second longer to line up her shot with the vorpalwight's head, but before she could fire, a premonition made her glance up.

  
The pack had a fourth member, a smarter one. It had hung back in the vent, let its packmates take her fire, and it charged forward now.

  
Yang let it get closer, until she was sure of her aim. Her last shot in the tube, the slug, blew its torso off. Limbs and head went spiraling off in different directions.

  
"Reloading." The rest of the Vorpalites were almost here. Vorpalmites, from the sound of it. Incendiary shells, then. Despite that, she started with a regular shell, and finished off the crippled 'wight first. Then started pulling red shells off her bandoleer and sliding them in. Rammed the last shell home, bright white instead of red.

  
"Almost through." How could Blake sound so calm?

  
The chitinous flood of vorpalmites washed into sight, and Yang started firing, sweeping her barrel back and forth. But they kept coming, skittering forward through the charring corpses of their fellows. Her final shot indicator came on. "Phos!" Yang called, closing her eyes as she fired.

  
Opened her eyes to see the front wave of vorpalmites only a few strides away, eyes burning and chitin smoking from the phosphorous blast, stunned. Behind those front ranks, though, more were coming, undeterred. Yang started reloading. Cursed as she fumbled a shell, and grabbed another. Kept loading incendiaries.

  
The reinforcements were past the phossed ones now. Yang abandoned her reloading, started firing again. Cleared almost all of them. The last vorpalite pounced for her face, and she clubbed it down with her shotgun's stock, stomped down on it. "Blake!"

  
"Patience is a virtue."

  
Having lost another three shells to her adrenaline-shaking fingers, including her last phosphorous round, Yang couldn't agree. She heard more vorpalwights in the vents. She fired two incendiaries into the vent, hoping to slow them, and kept firing into the swarm. Took another step back, bumping into Blake. "Now or never!"

  
"Open!"

  
"Go! Go!" Yang felt Blake start moving, and began backing up herself. "Get to the ship!" Her shotgun ran dry again. Time seemed to slow, as the vorpalmites surged forward, and the first of the 'wights poked its ugly head out of the vent. In a perfect world, Yang would be able to start running and reloading, and Blake would cover her until she ran dry, and so on through the team, as they leapfrogged to the ship.

  
But it was just the two of them. And she had told Blake to run. Yang backed up, loading whatever shells she could reach. In the adrenaline haze, it was almost peaceful. Load a shell, club a vorpalmite, gutshot a vorpalwight, load two shells, miss the first, waste a slug on a leaping 'mite, load a shell, headshot a 'wight, load a- fumble, load a-

  
The vorpalwight's claws tore through her armor, and her left arm wouldn't respond anymore. She glanced down, and saw it lying on the deck, still holding a shell. Yang dropped her empty shotgun, drew her pistol, and planted three rounds in the 'wight's head. It wavered and dropped.

  
The entire world was pulsing. She kept backing up, firing at the closest vorpalites. The slide clicked back. Yang tried to reload. Swore.

  
She turned around and started running. If she could just make it to the hanger, maybe she could get covering fire from the ship...

  
Yang stumbled as a 'mite hit her back, not able to penetrate her armor, but still slowing her down.

  
Automatic fire blazed around her. She looked up and saw Blake kneeling at the intersection ahead, firing controlled bursts at the vorpalites. "Come on, Yang!"

  
Wanting to tell her to run, but knowing it would be useless, Yang charged forward. Trusting Blake to not accidentally shoot her.

  
As she closed, Blake stopped firing, reloaded, and pulled a grenade out. Armed it, and tossed it as Yang shot past her.

  
Blake caught up with her as the grenade exploded. "Left!" She grabbed onto Yang's remaining arm and pulled her into a sharp turn at the next intersection.

  
The hanger was dead ahead. Yang managed to holster her pistol, and catch the one Blake tossed at her. Saved her shots as they charged forward, let Blake deal with the 'mites crowding in on them from side passages. Had to spend two rounds to deal with one directly in their path.

  
She heard an undulating roar from behind them. "Vorpagon." If it caught them...

  
Blake slammed another magazine into place, grimaced. Kept running.

  
Pulse pounding in her ears, Yang burst out into the hanger. Fired her pistol as she charged at the ship, dropping a vorpalwight. Fired her last shots into a vorpalmite, and pistol-whipped it down when it leapt at her. Another 'wight dropped from the ceiling, landing in front of her. Blake unleashed a torrent of fire into it, blowing it out of Yang's way.

  
The ship opened up with its turrets, and the external speaker crackled. "Get aboard! Now!"

  
Blake made it to the boarding ramp first, turned and crouched at the bottom of it, covering Yang's final approach.

  
Yang put on a last burst of speed, stumbling up the ramp and into the ship. Found the 'close doors' button and planted herself by it, hand poised. "Blake!"

  
She stood, unleashing the last of her magazine, and fled up the ramp. Over the threshold. Yang slapped the button.

  
"That was intense." Yang blew out a breath and set her scroll down as the victory cinematic started to play. She looked over at Blake. "Thanks for not listening to me."

  
Blake smiled at her. "You do get dumb and heroic sometimes."

  
Across the hall, they could hear Nora yelling. Yang glanced back at the screen, at the Vorpagon Rex standing in the hanger, waving its scythe arms uselessly as the ship flew off into space. Yang shook her head. "Too close."

  
"Agreed."

  
Standing up, Yang offered Blake her hand. "Want to go gloat over Nora and Ren?"

  
Blake smiled up at her, took her hand. "Sure."

**Author's Note:**

> [Recommended extro music.](https://youtu.be/ypxV7NrEt-4)


End file.
